


Soul's Respite

by CheshireCity



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCity/pseuds/CheshireCity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set early in the series. Ichigo contemplates his feelings for two individuals, only to be reconciled by a good friend. Ichigo/Rukia; Ichigo/Uryu</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul's Respite

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story in part to my younger self, and to all the young kids out there going through the same thing. Take Kon's advice as my advice to you - you're all beautiful people, no matter who or what you love. Never forget that. :3

"There is no value in life except what you choose to place upon it and no happiness in any place except what you bring to it yourself."  
-Henry David Thoreau

It was getting hard to pay attention. The minutes were ticking by far too slowly (the clock must be broken), the teacher's words continued to fade to mumbles, and the world kept blurring out with every droop of Ichigo's heavy lids. It had been another rough night. He had been roused from a light sleep only to be jerked free of his own body, responsibilities of a substitute soul reaper leading him on a rampant chase throughout the darkened city as he pursued a particularly evasive Hollow. At last he had managed to corner it when an alley dead ended out of nowhere. It had been an easy chore once the creature was out of escape routes, but it didn't change the fact that it had led the teen several miles away from his home. By the time he had managed to crawl back into bed (and, consequently, his own physical body), the sun was creeping over the horizon and urging him to ready himself for school.

The light jangling of chains jerked him into consciousness, and for a panicked moment, he thought he had been called upon by the teacher. 'I have got to get more sleep. If I'm not careful, I'm gonna end up sleeping straight through class. Can't have dad noticing.'

Casually, the teen rose from where he had been slumped over his desk, stretching his arms out before him and hissing quietly when the muscle tensed from the stress of wielding a cumbersome sword. He peered down at the scrawl of his notes, realizing that he'd stopped writing after the first ten minutes of the period. He groaned internally. 'Guess this means I'm borrowing Keigo's notes again.' It meant extra work, having to supplement his friend's less-than-perfect notes, but if he was going to hold onto his rank of 23rd, he'd have to put up with it. 'And I guess I'm not sleeping tonight, either.'

Deciding it wasn't worth trying to pay attention to the last quarter of the lecture, Ichigo pulled out a crumpled scrap of paper from between the pages of his binder. He had read and reread it so many times already that he was certain he had memorized it verbatim. It was fruitless, but again he scanned over the neat characters.

Don't worry about me. I'll be gone for a short while, although I don't know how long. I have matters to attend to. Trying to follow me would be foolish. Continue your duties in my absence, using Kon as necessary. Watch your back out there.

-Rukia

'"Don't worry about me." Right.' Ichigo thought sardonically, turning to his mentor's seat in the classroom. A semi-transparent young girl sat there instead, idly fiddling with the chain that sprouted from the center of her chest. The teen narrowed his eyes in exasperation and looked resolutely at his desk. Why did spirits always have to bother him? They never seemed to have a sense of tactful timing. He could hear the girl spirit talking at him, but resolutely turned her out. 'It's not like I can talk to you right now, you know. I'll look crazy.' Death apparently gave one a lack of interest in social image.

Before long, the day drew to a close, ushered in by the excited chattering of teenagers eager to head to their favourite haunts. Ichigo waited until the last of the stragglers drifted through the doors before turning to his impromptu guest.

"Finally!" The girl huffed, crossing her arms beneath her breasts with a jangle of chain.

"Sorry." Ichigo muttered, sweeping his books into his bag. "It isn't normal for people to be able to see you. I couldn't just talk to you in the middle of class."

"I used to all the time." The girl shrugged dismissively. She relaxed against Rukia's desk, smoothing out her grey skirt.

"Did you use to go here?" the other asked, shouldering his bag. "Your uniform looks like one of ours. And I don't want to get in trouble with my teachers, thanks."

"No need to be so straight laced!" the spirit teased.

She was an average looking girl with an unusual charm about her. She had probably been friends with a clique, Ichigo thought. The kind that shopped frivolously and were constantly fixing their hair in the bathrooms between classes. The type of girl that always made him equal parts uncomfortable and sad – having sisters himself, he preferred girls who didn't feel compelled to conform to an image to please their peers and suitors. Briefly his thoughts flashed to his mentor, but he reigned them in as the girl continued her coquettish admonishments.

"Really, you're so serious. It's a shame for a guy with your looks, you know. It isn't cool at all."

"Hey!" the teen interjected. "I'm plenty cool! Besides, I'd like to get somewhere with my life, you know. My family runs a clinic – I owe it to them to get into a good school."

'Not that I know what I'll do once I get into a school. I don't have the patience or bedside manner to seriously work in the clinic…'

"Whatever, spoilsport. Are you going to help me or what?" the girl pouted. "I've heard that you're the guy letting people cross over."

"Heard from who?" Ichigo frowned, unable to quell the anxiety that arose in his stomach. He couldn't have anyone knowing about his double life. Maybe it was the tightness around Rukia's eyes when she instructed him or the curiosity of the Hollows he'd fought, but he was beginning to get the sensation that something was amiss, and he didn't want himself or Rukia to be caught at the end of it.

"No one in particular." The spirit hummed. "Just around. What's it to you, anyway? Just do your damned job – I'm sick of wandering around this stupid campus already, I want to cross over."

"Look, I promise I'll help you, but I just can't do it here. Or… at least not right now." The teen sighed thoughtfully. It would just be easier if she could follow him home like some of the other spirits he'd encountered. "Are you… stuck here?"

"You could say that." The girl said quietly, pointing vaguely upwards.

'Huh? The ceiling? Oh… the roof. A jumper.'

"Really, kid." The spirit continued, suddenly serious. "You shouldn't stress so much."

"Sorry if I offended you." Ichigo replied. "And hey, I promise I'll come by –."

"Who're you talking to?" The voice made the teen jump, sending him into a desperate coughing fit in vain hopes of covering up his seemingly strange behavior. Keigo stood in the doorway, confusedly scratching at his head but smiling all the while.

"Huh? I wasn't talking to anyone." Ichigo said forcibly, striding towards the door to join his friend. "Where's Mizuiro? I figured he'd be with you."

"Naw, he went home." The brunet replied cheerfully. "Man, you're so weird, Ichigo."

The teen stiffened, forcing out a small laugh as he punched his friend in the arm. It had been in jest, but he had heard those words too many times. "You're the weird one, Keigo." He deflected. "If you weren't so overeager, maybe you'd have a girlfriend already."

"Awe!" the other whined. "Not cool! And I don't see you covered in babes, either."

"Hey, some of us have more priorities!" Ichigo chuckled. "Well, I've got to head home; dad needs my help this afternoon. Can I borrow your notes from the last class? I had a hard time staying awake."

"So, even you need help from us commoners!" the smaller announced dramatically, rummaging in his sack and offering the requested papers. "And here I thought a nerd like you would have this down, Mister 23."

"Come off it." Ichigo replied good naturedly, tucking the notes away. "Catch you later." With a wave, the two departed, leaving the brightly haired teen to his own thoughts. He felt bad leaving the spirit in the classroom without telling her when he'd be able to come by. For a moment he contemplated going back to finish his conversation but dismissed it when he recalled Keigo's unintentional taunt. 'I don't need people calling me weird now that I've got an image. I'll just talk to her more tomorrow.'

He knew full well how he used to act as a child, and he never suspected his peers had forgotten, either. Back when his mother was still alive, he had still been safe to act eccentrically. He cried more than most children, continuously sought comfort and encouragement, and was more sensitive to emotion than even most of his female friends. His mother had called him an 'empath', saying that it was a blessing that he could relate so well to the emotions and feelings of others, even if she couldn't always see who those others were. He had stopped believing it was such a good thing once she had passed.

The spirits didn't stop appearing to him after her funeral. For a while, he hated them. The tears would come again and he'd close them out. He couldn't bear to loose someone else because he was chasing shadows. What if his dad died this time? He couldn't do that to his little sisters. He was almost normal for that time: people were used to the tears and they took pity on him, assuming it was merely from the trauma of losing his mother. But months stretched into years and the alibies faded away.

Children needed him, murdered victims needed him, parents who had lost their children. He could no longer turn them away, not when he saw their tears and could relate to their loss. So, reluctantly, he had returned to helping them as best he could, slowly coming to the hope that he may find the spirit of his own mother if he searched hard enough. But he never found her and his psychologist dissuaded him from continuing to try. He had been classified with having 'fantastic hallucinations', an escapist way of coping with the trauma he had endured. He had 'allowed the imagination of childhood to take on an edge of reality' and his family was urged to discourage him from taking to thin air.

Ichigo did his best to be good, resorting to only talking to the spirits at night, holed up in his bedroom with the covers brought up over his head like an enormous tent. After a time his family believed him to be recovered and stopped monitoring his behavior so closely. The spirits came and went with increasing frequency, and Ichigo did what he could to help them all, talking to them as a balm to soothe their suffering. If he couldn't find his mother, then maybe he could make up for what he did by helping as many other beings as possible. Slowly, he began to feel better.

It wouldn't last.

His peers matured, focusing more and more on the world of reality and less on their play. They began to notice. Who are you talking to? What are you doing? You're so weird. You're a freak, Ichigo. Play with someone else. Go away. You're a liar. You only want attention. Don't talk to him. There's something wrong with him. He's crazy. He's a liar. Liar liar liar.

Ichigo never forgot.

He grew lonely and withdrawn, spending more time with dead children than living ones. Around his family he would put on a broad grin. He didn't want to worry; they'd spent enough time caring for him when they needed all the support they could get themselves. He too matured and adapted some tact, reverting to when he only talked to the spirits in private, increasingly cautious of who he approached for fear that no one else could see them. He was sick of being crazy. He was never a liar. And he wasn't 'blessed'.

He drew himself up, lent heavily into his studies, and began to excel. He had only been an average student until then, and children began to take notice. They began to flock to him for help with their schoolwork, slowly spending more and more time in his company. Shyly, he would introduce himself to circles of boys in the school yard, quickly impressing them with his athletic ability. Over time he grew physically, broadening in the shoulders as muscles in his chest and arms began to define themselves. Girls started taking notice of him and boys began to look to him as their leader.

Perhaps that was how 'normal' was supposed to feel like. Often, he wondered if his mother would have been proud of him. He was too young to have known what she would have placed importance on. What had she wanted for him? His father could only answer for so much.

Growing up without his mother had been difficult. He had lost a safety blanket. He was still a kid, and yet he felt more than a kid his age should. It wasn't merely a matter of seeing spirits then: he had sisters who would grow up hardly remembering their own mother, who would need protecting. If he hadn't rushed to that river, she would still have been around to comfort them and take them to school and make sure their bentos were made in the morning. But Ichigo was no homemaker, and try as he might, he could never fill the position his mother had left. While she was small, it was Yuzu who had ended up bearing the responsibilities that their mother had once carried, and it was not something Ichigo could simply dismiss. It was a shortcoming of his that his sisters had to grow up more than they were due, but his talents didn't seem congruent with what was needed to support their family.

'What are my abilities, anyway?' he thought heavily. He had tried his hand at a number of things as he grew up, each to little avail. He had enrolled in martial arts and then kendo when he was a young child, sports that he was always bested in by Tatsuki. Despite his tears, he had enjoyed them and was content with just making his parents proud. He probably would excel in them if he were to reenroll, but he was too old to make a profession out of either. He had tried to help out in the clinic, first in keeping stock and then with simple tasks like changing bandages and organizing patient files. He had done adequately, but would get antsy with the menial work, mind wandering easily without the presentation of a challenge. When his father had tried to get him more involved in caring for patients, he found that he would quickly get exasperated with them and would lose his cool when emergencies arose or when his methods were countered. His sisters, meanwhile, were sufficient in the areas he struggled with, sending him back to the role of secretary. Even Karin, with her usual sarcasms and dry humor, seemed to transform herself into a patient and kindhearted nurse, much to the surprise of her family.

'I almost wish I was as much of a nerd as Keigo thinks. Just because I study hard and get good grades doesn't mean that I'm particularly good at school.' He rounded the block and began up the walk to his house, darting a glance to his bedroom window. He would have his work cut out for him preparing for the test in two days' time and groaned, mentally rearranging his homework schedule in his mind. 'And it certainly isn't like I enjoy school any more or less than the average kid. Hell, I wish I could.'

He ambled through the kitchen, inwardly grateful that his sisters didn't get released from class until later, leaving him with the house to himself. He grabbed a green dusted pan from the counter and bit into the sweet bread, deliberating a moment before grabbing a second in the vain hopes that he would soon have someone to give it to. "Rukia?" he called quietly, nudging open the door to his room. No response. He dumped his bag beside his bed and nudged open his closet. The same neatly folded clothes and blanket. Fine. He would just eat the second pastry himself, then.

Slightly defeated, he flung himself down upon his bed, letting his body sink into the plush comforter. He didn't know why he was letting her absence bother him so much. It wasn't as though he hadn't been able to cope just a month before without her constant presence in his life. To be realistic, she was a bit of a nuisance. Thickheaded, opinionated, and certainly didn't back down when he got angry. She certainly never let him dwell on painful memories, either. Plus he had the burden of hiding her in his own closet of all places. He had to feed her and feign constant hunger, had to be surreptitious about sneaking his sisters borrowed clothing into the laundry without appearing as if it had originated from his room, and he had to convince his family that he had taken up the habit of talking to himself out loud, which really didn't help his image of not being genuinely weird.

He winced at the word and tucked his hands beneath his head, staring up at his ceiling and the continuous rotations of the fan blades. Had it really only been a month that the reaper had been living with him? In ways it had seemed like so much longer, so much had changed, and Ichigo realized that it wasn't just his situation. He had changed, although not wholly for the better. He hated lying all the time. It was completely against his nature and sat heavily in his gut, gnawing at him with guilt. But what could he do? Just because his family had accepted his 'abilities' didn't mean they'd be so open minded about a guest living in their house and dragging Ichigo out on a near-nightly basis to face potentially-fatal situations. What made it worse was that he was starting to enjoy it – the freeing of souls, at least. The lying never got easier, but he finally felt as though he was good at something and helping someone, and that was more than he could say for his life in the mortal world.

He had Rukia to thank for that. 'Never would have thought a reaper would've given me a sense of purpose. Hell, I didn't even believe reapers existed a month ago.' He mused, chest clenching. Finally, he had found a place where he felt like he entirely belonged, but he knew that it wasn't where he was supposed to be, either. He wasn't really a reaper, he was just playing at one. It felt damn good, too, but how long could it go on for? One day his stint would run out and Rukia would gain her powers. She would have to leave eventually. It was weird to think, but she had to have friends and family of her own. It didn't change the fact that he would miss her, though.

Not that he really had the right to.

She was a reaper, after all. She had said before that she had lived ten human lifetimes. Oddly enough, that hadn't been enough to stave off the feelings he couldn't quite deny. But he knew, too, that she would live another ten long after he'd grown wizened and old and been buried in the ground. She probably wouldn't look any older, either. Hell, she might even be the one to collect his soul whenever it was that death finally caught up to him. It just wasn't something that was going to work. It didn't make sense. But Ichigo knew he wasn't the only one to change, either. As much of an impact as the reaper had had on his personality and life, he had bared just as much upon hers. She had opened up, joked freely, and expressed raw emotion. She had, laughably, become truly human within only a few weeks.

But he'd get over her. He'd have to, at least.

It wasn't like she would be foolish enough to like him in those regards, anyway, and that alone would be both a relief and a help. He wouldn't even risk hurting her.

But… he sighed, frustrated with himself. 'Man, all this talk of fate. It's kinda maddening. I meet all these spirits and people, but I can never truly be them. I can only ever be Ichigo Kurosaki, only experience things through my own skin… well, soul, I guess. I will only ever be a part of this family, only ever be a human in the end. I'll have to face that one day. I'll have to go to school, get a real job. Get married, pop out a couple of kids. I'll never get my mom back and I'll never be a reaper by blood. It would be so much easier if things were different. I guess… I'd be a reaper as a living, however that works. I could be friends with Rukia without it hurting her. Maybe even…' He blushed despite himself, considering the possibilities.

Despite being fifteen, he had never found himself attracted to a girl before. Plenty had fawned over him, and he had cared for their feelings, but he could only look upon them as sisters. He kindly rejected them in turn (although Keigo and Mizuiro had gawked at his brazenness) and went about his daily life. Sure, they were pretty. Some of them were plain but clever with sweet dispositions. Some were a little larger than their friends but possessed the most vibrant personalities. Others were beautiful but arrogant. None he spent much thought over.

He was certain that Orihime had interest in him. She was sweet and was blessed with genetics uncommon for a Japanese woman. She was fairly popular herself and was well-liked among her peers. She was vaguely compatible with himself: she loved people and was mothering and had the personality of someone that needed protecting. She had her own opinions, but accepted others freely and had her own eccentricities. He could save himself a lot of stress by simply dating her. She would be happy, he would be normal, and he would have someone to introduce to his family. Things he could never hope to do with…

But he couldn't pull himself to ask her out. His heart simply wasn't in it. After her brother had died, she had become a different person. A bit vapid and easy to manipulate. Other girls pushed her around and only encouraged her material beauty. She changed and fit in. Yet Ichigo never looked upon her as shallow: she wasn't, and he knew it. She just wanted to belong. He knew that desire better than anyone, after all. He wanted to know her for her, not for what she pretended to be like. Until she was comfortable with herself at school, he knew dating her was far out of the question. He couldn't live more than two lives.

So there had been no one to call his girlfriend. No matter their type, he could only appreciate them aesthetically. He didn't know if it was from years of living on the outside: they were lovely, but unattainable despite their flinging themselves at him. He didn't know if maybe it was that there was something wrong with him.

He bit the corner of his lip. He hated the recent derailing of these thoughts. There was no one to see him, and yet he felt shame. He just wanted to be as normal as possible. The last thing he needed was another thing to set him apart from everyone else.

But someone had caught his attention. Someone was on his mind, and that someone was human, was practical in some sense. Practical, but completely and utterly impossible.

A week ago he hadn't even realized the individual existed, let alone been in his class.

Uryu Ishida was a prat if he ever saw one. He was cold and arrogant with very few friends. He kept people away with his indifference, and that irked Ichigo more than anything. What more, he was very skilled with spiritual matters, even more so than the substitute reaper, and his inability got under his skin. The boy seemed perfect (in ability, at least) and acted as though he knew it. He hated an entire race blindly and acted superior to them, and Ichigo was never certain if he fell under that jurisdiction or not.

But there was more to Uryu than just that. He was chivalrous with strong moral standings that never wavered, extending even to Rukia despite her blood heritage. He tried too hard to act apathetic and cool, yet he was helpful even when it didn't benefit him. He wasn't above helping strangers, and even when he seemed against a principle, he would still come to support those that needed him. He was strong, but flawed, and Ichigo couldn't deny that they were similar in some ways. They had a hard time accepting help from others and gave projects their all, fighting for those who couldn't fight for themselves.

It was an ethic that Ichigo valued and rarely found. Perhaps he was just unused to having friends with similar beliefs.

Finally he had found another person who could understand him, who could see the same things as he did, who would believe his word as truth. Someone he wouldn't have to hide from and lie to.

But it was questionable if they were really friends or if they ever could be.

It was questionable if people wasted so much time thinking about would-be friends.

'There's no way I could like him.' Ichigo insisted, mouth feeling dry. But he had felt a sense of freedom that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Someone he didn't have to protect, someone he could genuinely fight beside. Someone who challenged him while still feeling like an equal. They could both stand to learn and gain something from one another without the unfair balance of power of varied races. They both had to have faced the same difficulties as children. 'I just… I can't like a guy. I can't have another thing wrong with me. And just because he likes girly things like sewing doesn't mean that he's… interested. But I can't help but think that if he'd just open up that I could trust him more than anyone. Gods, I'm such an idiot.'

With a groan, Ichigo rolled over to his side, glaring down his wall. What about Rukia? Hadn't he just been imaging some perverse future in which they were dating or married or something? So what the hell did that mean? 'What even am I?' he groaned. "Weird." He answered aloud immediately. He was getting nowhere.

"I like Rukia." He admitted quietly. That felt right. She was at an attractive height, smaller and thinner than him, the 'perfect girlfriend' size. Her hair was sleek and looked soft, like it might feel good to comb his fingers through. Her once expressionless eyes now shone with a rainbow of emotion: she was serious in dealings with spirits and someone who commanded respect, yet she could be so full of curiosity of human ways… downright cute, even. She wasn't the most feminine. She didn't paint her nails or spend hours contemplating her looks. Her palms were calloused from years of handling her zanpakuto and her chest was pretty flat. She could be blunt and cutting, but Ichigo found he didn't really mind that.

He swallowed roughly, stomach knotting as he forcefully turned his thoughts. Even quieter than the first, he whispered, "I like Uryu." It felt strange. Not necessarily untrue, but… like it wasn't something he should feel, or shouldn't allow himself to feel. It wasn't as though he feared how his family would perceive him: once Karin had admitted her aptitude for sensing spirits (Yuzu following suit not long after), he had been more accepted among his sisters and father. He wasn't crazy with them, and they would no longer do anything or say anything against him to deny who he was. That was something he cherished dearly.

But the same couldn't be said for the real world. He had come so far. He had made friends, had a sense of belonging at school. People chose to forget or look past his eccentricities and saw him only as a cool guy that was willing to help with homework or would agree to accompany others to festivals. It was terrifying to consider how another change in how he was perceived would affect him then. Would he lose everything?

"Ridiculous." He muttered. "How's a person supposed to know what they like, anyway? Isn't there a test or something a guy can take? Congrats Mr.-So-And-So, you're…" he exhaled slowly. "Different." Could he search it on the Internet? Perhaps, but he shuddered at the thought of Karin finding the queries in his search history. He hadn't ever been the best with technology. It wasn't like he had anyone that he could consult, either. He had suspected Tatsuki might be … on a different team… but didn't want to risk insulting or embarrassing her with assuming.

"Maybe I just gotta assess how I… feel." He mumbled, bringing Uryu's image to mind as he had done with Rukia, squishing his discomfort down.

Uryu was slender and also shorter than him. He didn't know how it factored in between guys, but he did know he liked the thought of Uyru being smaller in stature than him. Somehow he interpreted it as feeling more comfortable. "Not as though I have anything to compare to." He added. He had grown up watching his parents be affectionate in the mornings, cuddling in the kitchen and exchanging quick kisses. How his mother could always press her head comfortably against the crook of his father's neck. He had always wanted that kind of dynamic. "Though it looks completely ridiculous in my head when I think of him." He grumbled, shoving his face into his pillow. What else?

Uryu was… pale. Not sickly pale, but… almost milky smooth, vaguely European. As far as skin went, it was attractive. If a girl had the same colouring she would definitely be beautiful, what with that lush black hair and those clear, sharp blue eyes. "So… I guess he kinda is hot." Ichigo frowned, not sure if he liked the revelation. He wondered what else there was to Uryu. Were his fingertips calloused from holding needles, bows, and strings? Was his skin soft? Was his grip strong? Did he relax in private? What was his room like? Was it all neat and prim like he tried to act, or was it more cluttered in the light sense Ichigo's own was? The teen relaxed, trying to imagine beyond the façade. "Maybe… I should ask him to join us for lunch tomorrow. Maybe I'll get some answers."

"Answers about what?" a voice piqued up, causing Ichigo to start violently.

"KON? How long have you been in here for?"

"Ah…" the plush spirit deliberated, placing a stuffed paw to his mouth. "Not very long. Yuzu found me and left me in the living room and then I found these lovely rice balls in the kitchen and then-"

"Great, Kon." The teen growled, sitting cross legged on his bed. "But did you hear anything?"

"The neighbor girl was playing this great pop song. What's a Kes-?"

"No, stupid. From me. Did you hear me say anything?" Ichigo interjected, heart still hammering in his chest. Kon was a loudmouth and loved teasing. He also didn't take much very seriously, and that was something that was becoming an increasing problem.

"Wellll." The modsoul sighed, clambering awkwardly up on the mattress to sit opposite the orange haired teen. "Other than the part where you aren't sure if you're in love with a guy or not, nope, I didn't hear a thing!"

"Kon." The other stressed, clearly envisioning the wide grin the soul bore when he was in… well, his body. "Kon that's… don't you dare repeat that to anybody, I will put you in something way more degrading than a stuffed lion. You didn't understand what I was mumbling about, anyway!"

"Oh?" the modsoul questioned, cocking his head to the side. "Well tell me, Ichigo, what's on your mind? You can tell your best friend!"

"Best friend?" the teen repeated incredulously. "Why should I say anything? You'll just repeat it to someone on accident or otherwise. Maybe once you get pissed at me. I'm not stupid."

"Hey now, hey now!" Kon rebuked, holding up his paws defensively. "I may be a joker, but I'm a man of my word. Don't underestimate me just because I look adorable."

"I don't."

"What I mean is, you can trust me. Everyone has their doubts and their secrets, right? We all just need someone to talk with. Trust me, kiddo, I spent enough time alone to know that much. You'll go crazy without someone to listen to ya."

"Well that explains you." The teen replied lightly, massaging at his temples. "Fine, I'll… try and talk. You're right, Kon, you would understand best."

The little lion seemed to perk up at that and sat patiently, waiting for his friend to continue.

"I, uh…" Ichigo began, faltering almost immediately. "I think I like Rukia."

"Hey, me too!" Kon cheered appreciatively. "She's great, isn't she?"

"No, no Kon. Like… as a girlfriend. I like her. Er, I think I do."

"Great! You should ask her out then, she's hot, right? Better get to her before another guy does!" Kon teased. He paused in a dramatic fashion, and Ichigo could tell he was already expecting the other shoe to drop. Defeated, he continued.

"But, I, uh… Well I don't know for a fact or anything but I might like Uryu a bit, too." The teen looked downcast at his quilt, knowing he would never be able to snatch the words back ever again. "But that doesn't make any sense, right? Because for one he's a guy. I'm just not used to having a bunch of friends is all. And besides, I can't like him if I like Rukia."

"Eh?" Kon cocked his head to the side. "You can like two people at the same time, ya know."

"No, no. Because Rukia is a girl and Uryu… isn't. That doesn't make any sense."

The plush soul looked at his friend seriously. He'd never seen the teen so conflicted or embarrassed before. It was unpleasantly sobering. "Hey… don't say that." He began, placing a tiny yellow paw on Ichigo's hand. Its knuckles were white, tendons shivering ever so slightly. "It's alright, man. There's nothing wrong with ya, you know? You can like more than one person at a time – though don't ever try to date more than one person at a time because I tell ya, that doesn't end pretty – and you can definitely like both genders. Hell, sometimes you just have exceptions or something. It doesn't really matter if you're happy, right?"

"If I'm happy?" Ichigo repeated, uncertain. He was so surefooted in everything else he did, but this threw him for a loop. He hated not knowing how he felt, not knowing if he was right or wrong. "I just… I want to be normal. That isn't normal, Kon. That-"

"Hey, hey! To hell with what people think! That's what you care about, right? Listen to me. On the same day I was born, I was sentenced to die. When you go through somethin' like that, you realize something: life is precious. And ya know? It doesn't really matter if you aren't normal, or if you don't do what people think you should. You think I should have just kept my head down and let them kill me? Hell no! I belong to no one. I do what makes me happy, because it's my soul and my life: I don't owe anyone anything, and neither do you. You wanna live without regrets? Live to make yourself happy, no one can ask more of you than that, got it? So it doesn't matter who or what you like – you like 'em and don't let go for anyone."

Ichigo sat in stunned silence, staring at the small plush. Slowly he reached out and picked him up, giving him a small hug. "Thanks, Kon." He said at last. "Somehow… I think my mom would've said the same. She always seemed so happy. Even when things were going wrong, she always seemed to have a smile on her face. I think she was someone who lived without regrets." He laughed softly, giving the plush a rare affectionate ruffle on the head. "You know, at first I thought you were kinda annoying."

Kon made to interject, but Ichigo cut him off before he could start complaining. "But that's kinda perfect, really. To be honest, you're kinda like the big brother I never had. Siblings drive you crazy, but they're also there for you. I've spent so much time trying to be there for Karin and Yuzu that I kinda forgot what it's like to have someone there for me. So… thank you."

The plush relaxed in his hold, waving his soft arms out to return the hug. "Hey, don't mention it, kid." There was an audible smile. "It's kinda nice to have a family." He pulled away, looking as seriously up at the teen as his plush body could manage. "Wanna know how I see people?"

"Hmn?"

"Well, I mean, I can see you and Rukia and everyone as you do, you know, as fleshy people? But the thing is, I'm a soul. I don't really have that, see. Modsouls like me were put in bodies that were designed for us. Hell, I heard of a few that were put in the wrong gender. Pretty disorienting, huh? But that's kinda the thing: I see people as their souls, not their flesh. That's what counts, right? What a person is just gets in the way of who that person is, but who that person is is what you're attracted to in the end. I mean, you wouldn't be any less cool if you were a hot babe – "

"Hey now."

" – or if Rukia was a muscular guy. You'd still be the same people where it counts."

"So…" Ichigo ventured. "Is it okay not to know? I mean… what I am."

"Of course it's okay." Kon laughed, nuzzling his face into the teen's arm. "That doesn't matter either way, as long as you're happy. Don't stress yourself out, kid. That's one thing that you don't need to worry about conforming to, okay? Think of it this way: you've been working as a soul reaper, right?"

"Right." The other nodded curiously.

"And you cleanse souls and let them cross over. Do you ever question if one is worth more than another? If one was a guy or a girl or if they loved a certain person or gender?"

"Of course not." The teen frowned. "Why would I? They all get crossed over if their spirits are deemed good."

"Exactly." The plush nodded proudly. "So why should it matter when you're alive? Don't you worry, kiddo: I can tell your heart's in the right place, so don't agonize over the small stuff. Don't bother with rushing your feelings – they'll come when they come, and that's just fine. You just focus on being happy: if you care for someone, let 'em know, alright?" Kon instructed gently, hugging the teen's side once more before wriggling out of his grasp. "And you can always talk to me, little bro."

Ichigo smiled, feeling the most unburdened he had in years. "Yeah… you'll be the first I'll talk to, I promise." He ruffled the top of the lion's head again gently, stretching the anxious worry out of his limbs. "I admit… it is still kinda scary, but… I really do feel a lot better. Thanks for that."

"Hey, like I said, any time!" the modsoul shrugged, hopping off the mattress in favour of wiggling his way up the nearby desk chair. "Now, as your big bro, I demand that you get some sleep 'cause you look dead on your feet. You can worry about your assignments later, you gotta take care of yourself!"

Ichigo laughed at the strange familial behavior but relented nonetheless, gratefully slipping under his sheets without bothering to change his clothes. "Yeah, I agree with you there." He murmured, listening to the soft scratchings of a pencil across paper. 'He must be drawing me a picture to cheer me up.' He realized faintly. 'Just like Rukia would do.' Just as sleep came to overtake him, he recalled the spirit from earlier that day.

"Hey Kon?"

"Eh?"

"Want to go give a spirit her Konso tonight? She'd probably really like you."

"You're asking?" Kon asked in surprise. "Like… I get a choice?"

"Yeah." Ichigo smiled against his pillow. "We work pretty well as a team, don't we?"

"Heh, you got that right. Yeah, sounds nice. I'll wake you up later, so rest little bro."

It wasn't much longer before Ichigo succumbed to a deep sleep, one where his mother and father sat smiling side by side as his sisters played at their feet. Rukia stood to his left, dressed in her traditional clothes. To his right was Uryu, unusually relaxed and giving them both a shy smile. A bright laugh redirected their gaze and a tall boy with coppery hair was beckoning them over to where Ichigo's family was waiting, full of love no matter where his path took him.


End file.
